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Today my writing friend and I embark on another trip to Georgia for the GRWA Moonlight & Magnolias Conference. Once more we will plug in that idiot Tom Tom, listen to him tell where NOT to go, and look at a Mapquest Map with puzzled eyes. We will probably get lost and scare a few innocent drivers. But we will arrive in GA with our writing notebooks, our thinking caps, our brains (okay–maybe not our brains), our laptops, and our hopes.

I’ve been thinking a lot about theme and premise and voice and … and… connectivity of my writing to whoever is there who might publish me.

Voice. I have one. Or so I have been told. But is my voice the “right voice?” Who knows. At times it is. At times it isn’t. But if there is one thing I’ve learned this year as a writer it is that I have a voice that is unchangeable despite my years of developing craft.

In a way, I wonder if that is good or not. But it is what it is. I have a passion for certain things and for life and for virtues. I have a weird duality in my voice. Why? Oh, I know why. I need to marry my natural inclination to cover pain with humor in real life with my writing. That’s HARD. Very hard. And I know some people who may think what? She has pain? How? She has it all. And that is also hard. For just as my heroines, I know exactly what they hide. If they were to reveal it all. The depth would be too much to convey.

But then I laugh. Ha. What the heck is my Vietnam? It’s nothing compared to the real heroes. The real heroines. Who the heck am I to complain? What is it that I have to gripe about? I couldn’t possibly have any real pain. But then ha. What does anyone know? Really? Not much unless they have been privy to the true, non-funny, oh-shit-this-sucks-side-of-life of me. (note: I have used hyphens and probably used them incorrectly. Don’t judge me). And then that is what permeates my characters. It is part of them. I can’t help it. It is what it is. Hence the duality of my writing. How can I make that duality connect? I don’t know. I will continue to try.

So I know my premise. Two lost souls find each other and discover home. Can’t change that. But what is really weird is the bizarre connectivity I find between all my manuscripts. I find boxes. Lots of boxes. My people are always in transition, moving, clearing out the past, making room for the present. I find secrets. I know. I have them. I don’t share them easily. Or willingly. There are few who know my secrets. And I have moved a lot. I have often said I have written two stories while sitting in a box.

I find hospitals. I find this odd. I do remember these odd times in my life. I fell. When I was four. Hit my head hard. Bled. Got stitches. The experience was overwhelmingly scary to me. I had doctors with masks, no parents, a tarp over my head. I was alone. I also remember surgery. On my knee. I remember the nurse waving the baggie with the needle they’d extracted from my knee in front of my face. Ha ha. So funny to her. But again. I was alone. I remember a miscarriage, the surgery. Again I was alone. I guess I see hospitals as metaphors of my own loneliness. They invade my writing.

I find betrayal. On all levels. I find deep seated anger. I find people who are supposed to love that go out of their way to hurt. But the people they hurt grow up to be funny, to laugh, to cover their sadness and angst with tough stuff. I also find quirky people. Misfits. People who don’t fit the norm. Wow, what a shock. I find people who yearn for connection, for love, for home.

I find my premise again and again.

Two lost souls find each other and discover home. That is the depth of me. But at the same time these people cover their loneliness and fear with humor and anger and hope and false bravado. If that is not going to “connect” with an agent or an editor — well I guess I am cooked. But at least I am honest.

Donald Maass said to be true to who you are as a writer. Then I will be true to my audience. I have mined the depths of my soul for my writing. I have opened up veins for my story. I have tried to show the complexity of being a funny, brash, fierce person with heart. I have no idea how she/he resonates with the reader.

Ah, the Mills & Boon New Voices competition is over and no, I am not a finalist in the Top Ten. But I feel like a winner just the same. Why? Because I put myself out there and no one came out and said,“Yuck, your writing stinks and you should take up knitting.” Yay! I also got some fabulous feedback from non-writers who had never read my work, but who knew me as just their neighbor or their friend. For many of them, this was the first time they’d read anything I had written.

The best thing I heard? “I can’t stop thinking about the characters. I can’t get them out of my head.”

Mission accomplished.

I learned that while my story might not be the story the M&B editors and judges wanted to move forward, that my characters resonated with my readers (at least the ones who stopped by to comment or to talk to me in person). I’m glad. I am heading in the right direction. If I can create characters that jump off the page then it is only a matter of connecting them to the story that resonates with an editor and/or an agent. Both, really.

Other lessons learned by entering this competition?

*I can put my work out there and the sky won’t fall on my head.*I can juggle multiple projects at a time.*I can put my name out there and promote my work.*I can be encouraging to strangers who have the same dream.*RWA and all the local chapters I belong to are golden in their ongoing professional support.*My critique partners and writing friends rock in their support.*I am not alone and many of the writers who did post their work do not have my kind of support.*I have control over three aspects of writing: writing my stories, querying, & learning craft.*I can write and revise very fast when the pressure is on.*I can balance the various aspects of the writing business based on my appetizer of the experience.

I am glad I entered this competition. I will continue to pursue publication through all the avenues available to me in this business. I can’t control WHEN I will connect all the dots and the stars align, but I can believe in the power of my dream.

Thanks to everyone who supported me. Be sure to check out the web site for the Top Ten. Read them. Have fun. I’ll post the winner here when she/he is announced!

I’ve had a bit of a taste about what it will be like when I become published. After entering the Mills & Boon New Voices competition with HER PRISONER OF LOVE, I learned that the rankings DO matter if there is a tie. The person with the most “votes” wins the tie. I had a feeling this would be the case because being able to promote yourself, get your name out there, is important in the publishing world. If I can’t get people to come to look at my book, then I won’t sell any books.

Confession: I am not the type who can sell products like home based sales for makeup, jewelry or cooking implements. I don’t want people to think I am contacting them ONLY because I want to sign them up for a sale.

I had to get over that mentality rather quickly after I posted my FIRST CHAPTER. The votes will matter, might matter in the M&B contest. I had to show the people there that I could generate some interest in my entry. So I stepped out onto the ledge and leapt into the self-promotion world.

I have a large network, but not a HUGE one. First I emailed friends who aren’t writers with my link. A few of them came to vote. Yay. I posted the link onto Facebook a few times. A few more votes. I finally asked if I could put my link on my writing chapter’s local social online loops. They said yes. I posted the link and asked for support. A few more votes. I posted it on my GIAM loop. I posted it on this blog. I linked this blog to my Twitter account, my FB account. I direct messaged people on my FB friend list again with the link to my chapter.

Confession: All this makes me very uncomfortable, but I have to step beyond my comfort zone. When I get published, I need to utilize every tool I have at my disposal to promote my writing.

Well, all this is well and good. But it is eating into my writing time. This is not good. I have to find the balance and spend time doing both. Instead, I am becoming obsessed with the checking the site for votes. There is a gal with over 300 votes on it. I do not have 300 votes. I don’t even have a 100 votes. I have less than 40 votes. But I am in the top 100 in the rankings. I don’t know if that means anything. Probably not. But that’s okay. I am trying.

But I also need to walk away from the contest, the self-promotion, and the discussion to write. This is a good lesson for me. How will I balance my days in the future. How will I juggle all the responsibilities. My good writing friend, Amy Atwell, recently went from unpubbed to pubbed with her book LYING EYES/Carina Press. She’s the best and on her way to a fabulous, well-deserved and hard won publishing career. She’s juggling far more than I am, yet she’s managing to get it all done. I will have to sit down with her at the Moonlight and Magnolia’s Conference to ask about her day and how she schedules her life.

I have determined that the best way for me to write is to write first.

Confession: This is easier said than done. I work at a computer where there is easy access to the Internet. Oh, how tempting it is to check the competition site, to post a comment, to encourage someone to continue their writing journey, to … oh oh….

So what have I done this morning? Did I write first after my darling Dowager Feline Clancy meowed and woke me up at 4:30AM to feed her and give her love time? Nope. I sat at this computer and FB messaged all my friends and asked them to come rank me. I replied to the social loops regarding my entry. I checked the Mills & Boon website and saw I had two more votes. Thanks! I blogged about my balancing act. I couldn’t get my head into the pages.

But I will. I have my set of pages printed to read through and hard copy edit. Then I am taking my computer OFF LINE for two hours and beginning my edits on the file. Today is a bit chopped up, but that’s okay. I am in a new territory. I am feeling my way around and learning about this world through a fun competition.

I am learning how important it will be to find the balance BEFORE I become an AFTER when I get the CALL.

Yesterday I didn’t post my Wednesday Whimsical Weirdness entry because I blogged about the Mills and Boon New Voices competition. You can read about my entry in yesterday’s blog and if you want to, go have fun and rank me. If you read my interview with Michael last week, you’ll know that I am a character driven writer. Whenever I try to impose MY ideas about plot onto my characters, they rebel and the story goes into the wrong direction. I’ve learned this the hard way. After the third plot revision in my current mangled mess, I realized I had to pin my characters down and interview them. Their story was a lot different than my story. I believe I have a much richer story now because of those interviews.

But I haven’t forgotten my blog sphere peeps. I’m playing around with vignettes and interviews as they come to me for this one. I’m not trying to impose any order of events on this blog story. I’m writing it to to stretch my writing brain and get my creative juices flowing without any real structure. I’m playing with my writing.

Playing is good. I want to talk to Delainey’s Aunt Nancy before she loses her memory. But Delainey has been pestering me, so I’ll sit under the tree with her and chat.

Hi Delainey–I’m sorry I haven’t spoken with you before.That’s okay, I’m used to being last.Well I didn’t want to put you last. You have something to tell me about Michael?Yes. I miss him a lot. And I’m scared.Why are you scared? I’m scared he won’t come home. I’m scared I won’t have anyone after Daddy dies.I know. How do you think you’ll cope after your dad dies? I can see you know how to cook, clean, take care of the house.Yes, I went to school. I got my diploma. I can write. I can read. But I’m slower. That’s all. I really want a job, but daddy won’t let me get one.why not?He thinks I’ll get used the wrong way. I don’t think so. I don’t need a fancy job. I just want to work at Dawson’s grocery store and help put things away.You mean stock the shelves? Why not be a cashier?I could be a cashier, too.Delainey you’ve got the prettiest smile when you’re happy.Thank you.Do you have any friends?I used to when I wen to school, but now everyone’s gone away or they’re married with babies. I wish I could have a baby.I’m sorry Delainey. I wish you could, too.Mommy and Daddy said it wasn’t a good idea. Cause the baby could be like me. They love me, but they worried about me being able to take care of a baby.So are you on birth control?I had an operation that stops the babies.you look mad.I am mad. I’m going to be alone because I’m different.Everyone is different Delainey. Some people can hide it easier, but you’ve got to find a way to connect with people. Why didn’t your dad want you to go to the group home when you turned 18? After you graduated?He didn’t want me to leave. It wasn’t a good time. Michael thought I should go. When he was still here he talked to his high school counselor about it. he told me about the place. but then he had a fight with daddy and Michael went away to college. They fought about it all the time. I hate it when people fight. I told them I didn’t want to go. I did. But I didn’t want any fighting. I stopped them from fighting. But Michael didn’t come home after he joined the marines. At least not very much.It’s not too late to look into it. Can’t you ask your aunt nancy to contact the social services? get you into some community programs? There are a lot of programs out there that could help you become even more independent.I want to, but I don’t want to hurt my daddy’s feelings. not now. i want michael to come home. aunt nancy’s not doing so well. you saw what she did at the stove the other day. she’s starting to forget a lot of things. she thinks she can hide it from me. but i know what is going on.tell you what delainey, i’ll research programs for you. i’ll find out what is available for adults who are slower. and i’ll find someone who can help you.yay–that makes me happy.Gosh Delainey, that is the best hug i’ve had in a long time.And you put my smile back on my face.I’m glad to see it.so what do yo do for fun. do you have any pets?I have a cat named (can’t think of a name right now) it was michael’s cat. she’s getting pretty old though. i don’t think she’s going to live much longer.oh delainey i’m sorry. i have an old cat, too. and she’s not in the best of health. i’ve cried more tears over that cat. she’s a member of our family.so is *name*what will you do when she goes to heaven?i’ll cry. i need michael to come home. i’m going to write him a letter. he has to come home.you know what delainey. i bet when i start doing some research about the programs, i’ll find someone who will help you get in touch with michael.will she be pretty?oh yes. she’ll be pretty. and she’ll be perfect for michael.i can’t wait to meet her.neither can i delainey.*grin*delainey, this is tender subject. i want find out more about it because i used to have a friend who was slower, a long long time ago. and i don’t want write or do anything that would hurt you or people like you. i want to do you justice.i’d like that. i appreciate that.well your vignette came to me first. so you’re the priority. you’re the reason i’m writing this story.really?yes. *hug*

I like Delainey, but the subject is tricky. I will do the research off-blog. I’m positive Michael’s match is going to pop out of this research. And she’ll be one feisty, fierce and powerful woman.

So off-blog, I will research special education, Downs syndrome, group homes, counselors and how programs are run and by whom. I still don’t exactly know where everyone lives (setting is not important to me–so I often layer it in after I have story and character–it is *weak* point for me), or what the laws are. There might be a hospice nurse who is worried, and if Michael’s dad is a veteran, there are those considerations. I do like to utilize things I know like my own darling DFC. I have a feeling Delainey and I will bond over our cats. I like Delainey. She’s a great woman and I want to give her what she deserves, too. I may have to give her a boyfriend. We’ll see if one pops out of the background. I am purely in Discover mode and unlike my other manuscripts, I’m only focused on this for a tiny amount of time on this blog. But it’s fun. And it’s making me smile.

Question: what pitfalls will I have as a writer regarding my subject matter? Does anyone in my blog world have any suggestions based on their own experiences about how to treat this subject with dignity and honor? I really want to give Delainey the story she deserves. Her story is important to me. I hope that in writing it I can impact the special education world in a positive way.

Disclaimer: This blog will be LONG. But it will be worth the read. I think LOL.

Five years ago I had a weird autoimmune reaction causing extreme vertigo. Yes, I was a “dizzy blond” for a good five or six months. Before I had the reaction, I was an uber volunteer at my daughter’s school, at church, and in the community. All of these activities required driving in the DC suburbs of Virginia. And they all required me to, well, stand. A “dizzy blond” should not drive in heavy traffic. And this “dizzy blond” was wiped out by about two in the afternoon.

I was officially sidelined. I had to quit all my activities and focus all my energy on accomplishing the few tasks that I could during the morning hours when the vertigo attacks didn’t hit me. Oh, those were the days. Lolling around my townhouse in my pajamas, sleeping all afternoon, having an excuse for takeout on a regular basis, maids were hired (I miss them), and I was blissfully recuperating.

Ha. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I do not accept or like enforced periods of inactivity. I am a “doer.” A “fixer.” A “busy bee.” And if I am not doing, fixing, bee-ing, I get BORED. It’s a good thing social media like Facebook was foreign to me back then, otherwise I might not have done the following thing: write a book.

Yes, one day I dusted off the first pages of a novel I started, ahem, eighteen years ago. My goals were simple. Write two hours a day, five days a week, ten pages a week (actually there were twenty pages cause I was single spacing at the time *shoulder shrug*). I finished my first novel LOVE BUILDS A CHANCE (you can stop laughing now) in five months.

I sent my novel to two trusted friends who are avid romance readers. They liked it! And they encouraged me to keep writing. And they’ve continued to do so. I owe them a huge debt of gratitude for not deriding my dream. They encouraged me to try to get it published.

I dutifully went to the Harlequin website, read about the word count requirements for the line I wanted to target, followed their instructions for writing a synopsis (what? I have to condense this!!???) and query letter. I queried the line, Silhouette Desire, and guess what? THEY REQUESTED A FULL. Yes, my very first novel, without the benefit of any support, was requested after I sent only one query.

I didn’t know about revising. I thought revising was copy editing. Ha. I was wrong. Heck, I didn’t even read through the hard copy after I printed it and sent it to the editorial offices at Harlequin. The editor sent it back to me with a very nice rejection letter which also encouraged me to keep writing and to join the ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA.

I joined RWA in 2005. I read the RWR Magazine every month, I started entering contests and to this day I owe those judges a big hug for their constructive criticism. They were so kind. They didn’t write mean and nasty things on my document, nor did they tell me to take up knitting instead. They gave me craft suggestions, and book suggestions. I followed their advice.

I wasn’t writing in a vacuum, but I was still very much alone. I bought a craft book about how to write a first draft in a month. I used it to craft my next novel, ROCK ON. I queried ROCK ON, I entered contests with it. I didn’t final or win, but I did get a few amazing scores from the judges. I got a few more rejections, but I continued to write. I didn’t revise it because I still didn’t know that revision meant going into the GUTS of the story and ripping it apart (fast forward to my current novel in progress–I’ve had four plot revisions and numerous layering/polishing revisions).

Enter an amazing duo of writers whom I was fortunate to meet through my daughter’s school. I was working on my third novel at this point. They began reading my contest results for the second novel. One day they invited me to join their critique group. I was thrilled. And they encouraged me to join my local writing chapter, the Washington Romance Writers of America. I was not writing in a vacuum anymore.

Fast forward: more craft lessons, more meetings, critiques, books about craft, my first retreat, the Moonlight & Magnolias GRWA Conference, two RWA National Conferences, PRO, moving and joining three new writing chapters HEART OF DIXIE, SOUTHERN MAGIC, GEORGIA ROMANCE WRITERS OF AMERICA, workshops, more craft books, meeting other writers, adding critique partners, reading and writing, writing and reading. I enter more contests. I start finaling. I learn to pitch, to hone my query, to keep sending darts out into the world. I get more requests for partial manuscripts, full manuscripts. I get more rejections. I keep writing. Now I have a “future list” of books.

A few months ago, my CP, Sharon, encouraged me to revisit my first novels and revise them for the Golden Heart. I knew LOVE BUILDS A CHANCE would present the most challenge to revise due to copious head-hopping, and tons of bad dialogue tags and comma issues (yes, I know I still have comma issues–but I have a book about them so I hope to improve–and if you think I am bad now, the early books show a marked improvement over time).

So I crept back into ROCK ON! (I know, I know. I have “title issues.”) Oh, boy. About the only thing I can say about this story is that I should never write about a virgin who is rescuing her bad boy crush who rejected her feeble seduction attempt 10 years ago. Nor can I write a story about a woman who has nice parents and a perfect life. I can only stretch the bounds of “fiction” so far. Yes, cliches riddle this piece of work. But the bones of the story are good, the POV is in place, and I have learned a thing or two about writing.

Why? Because I no longer write in a vacuum. I have a community of writers to draw from today. Yes, I had to go back into the book on my own. I imported ROCK ON! into Scrivener, broke the book into scenes, cut the two villain scenes, cut the first three chapters of BACKSTORY, and got to the real beginning. And I got to work on digging through the GUTS of this story, the characters, and discovered that my virgin is no wall flower. In fact, she’s not a virgin (I hate to admit it, but my gals have pasts *shoulder shrug* again). She’s no pushover. And my bad boy? He’s a layered, complex guy. I love him. I know he’s the right man for her.

Okay, now we are at the crux of the blog. I decided to do something I have never done before due to extreme shyness (no, I’m not shy about people, but letting people read my stuff publicly? Criticize it anonymously? Rank it? Uh uh). But when I learned about the MILLS AND BOON NEW VOICES CONTEST, I had to enter. I waffled (read again the bit about the extreme shyness–I have my own vulnerabilities though I rarely show them). Then I thought, what the heck? Go for it. So I did.

And now I am going to do something I’ve never done before either. I’m going to share the opening paragraph of my first chapter for ROCK ON! before I revised it:

The last sound engineer left the building as Blade Edwards continued to wrap up the track editing for Rising Velocity’s latest album. His manager Frank sat behind him, keeping him company as his fingers danced with studied expertise across the console’s buttons.

Here is the original story’s first paragraph after cutting the first three chapters:

Kayla stood in front of Blade’s door, trying to gather her courage to knock on the dark cherry wood that lay like a barricade between her and quite possibly the most stubborn man she’d ever encountered. Brushing her fingers through her blond hair, Kayla tartly reminded herself that she had no one to blame for being in this pickle but her.

I know. I know. Blade? Right. Changed his name to DRAKE SHERIDAN. And much of what was written after Kayla’s first paragraph was, um, introspection. I also changed the title to HER PRISONER OF LOVE.

Here are the revised first paragraphs:

Kayla Jackson stood in front of the dark mahogany door and rapped three times. Hard. No answer. And no surprise. Drake Sheridan, the lead singer of Rising Velocity, was officially her problem as of Monday, February seventh. She had only herself to blame for this ridiculous pickle. But if she pulled off a miracle and reformed the Bad Boy of Rock and Roll, she’d earn enough money to keep her program for delinquent teens up and running.

She stared at the wooden barricade standing between her and the most stubborn client she’d ever encountered in all her years of social work. “Open this door now, or I’m rescinding your home arrest and sending your sorry butt back to jail.”

She rubbed her hands on her jeans and drew a deep breath. She’d always admired Drake for his talent. And she’d be the first to admit she’d swooned a time or two when he’d performed live. But his sexual exploits with women, and his wild partying days had never impressed her. Punching out a reporter had done little to raise her estimation.

She didn’t need to respect him. She only had to redeem him and gather her paycheck.

Kayla pounded harder. “I know you’re in there.” He couldn’t leave the grounds without triggering his security anklet. And boy had he kicked up a fight when they’d clipped it on him at the courthouse. One that would’ve sent a less successful and influential man back to jail. A man like her brother.

Introducing the Bad Boy of Rock and Roll

Once she’d regained her wits, she stared at her assigned case. He barred the doorframe and hadn’t bothered to cover his broad chest. Even disheveled, he radiated strength, sex, and soul. Her stomach filled with nervous little flutters as if monarch butterflies had invaded her system. “I’d love to leave you alone just to avoid the stench inside.”

He wiped his eyes, a bit bloodshot but still arresting with their amber color, and shook his dark curls from his forehead. “Then do us both a favor and go.”

“Park your tough rocker routine at the curb.” Grateful for her four-inch heels and the height they gave her, she wiggled around his imposing muscular six-foot plus body. “Good Lord, it looks like a bomb went off in here.”

Here is the full blurb of my revised story HER PRISONER OF LOVE:

Bad Boy of Rock and Roll Drake Sheridan is in a court ordered time out, but his house arrest heats up when he meets the key to his release, Kayla Jackson. And he decides to turn his beautiful, control-freak warden into his greatest fan. Social worker Kayla Jackson is out of choices. She must help Drake reform his ways if she wants to secure funding for her theater program supporting juvenile delinquents. Too bad Drake is the sexiest man she’s ever met, and he’s determined to prove it. Kayla maintains a professional distance until Drake’s empathy for her young charges draws them closer. And when the mask of Kayla’s no-nonsense, tough girl attitude slips, her vulnerable, compassionate soul takes Drake’s heart captive. Drake is finally ready to give up the fame, but Kayla’s secret arrangement with his manager may drive him back to his wild ways. Then Kayla may not only lose Drake, as well as her theater program, she’ll lose her heart.

I’m sharing this with you because I want other writers out there, the ones who are starting their journey, to know that if they build a community of writers and are willing to apply what they learn to the best of their ability, they will become better writers. They will get closer to achieving their dreams.

I don’t know if I will win the Mills & Boon contest. It would be nice, not going to lie. But I don’t have to win it to know that I am a better writer today than I was when I first wrote LOVE BUILDS A CHANCE (again, you can stop laughing now). But if you want to read the rest of my chapter (and my CP Gwen’s chapter, too, SLOW BURN. Go Gwen!) click the link provided on this page, read the entries, rank them. Please be kind in your comments. And have fun.

I’m still a BEFORE working toward her AFTER. I will never be finished learning about this glorious obsession. ROCK ON!

Usually I try to keep my blog about writing, the craft, my sweet geriatric Dowager Feline Clancy and my crazy writing adventures. I have tried to stay neutral about a lot of topics like politics and religion, I cannot stay neutral about this topic. I’m against banning books, and this author’s blog post states most eloquently what we as writers must always work to defend: freedom of speech.

We need only to look to the past to see what happens when one person determines how people should think, dress, behave. We need only to look to other nations who oppress their people now to know we have a precious gift. One we cannot take for granted.

As a mother of a teenaged daughter, I can say this: I would not ever want to stop my Darling Daughter from learning about the world through reading. I don’t censor her. I read what she reads. We TALK about the subject matter. We have a dialogue. She is a strong, smart, and glorious girl becoming a fierce, determined woman. She has passion for life, for love, and for her adventures.

She knows her freedom to SPEAK and be heard is a gift. As a woman, I do not want her powerful voice to be silenced by anyone.